Young & Beautiful

guitars than people, I reckon. But we were best mates, Harry and I, so we saw it as an excuse to
fight together, you know? Us against the world, that sort of thing. And Harry was good, he was
funny and thoughtful and fucking weird. And played the violin and asked me to sing cuz he loved
my voice. Told everybody how good I was. Brought me everywhere. Showed me everything.
Picked flowers and left wreaths at me door and fell asleep in my bed and…” Zayn pauses, his
brow beginning to furrow. “He wasn’t perfect, but he was better than he is now. It all changed
when Gemma left. And then his au pair.”
“Wait, what?” Louis asks, surprised. “His au pair?”
Zayn nods, slowly, eyes downcast. “She was the closest thing he had to real affection, I think,
aside from Gemma. Des hated her. She hated Des.” He takes a long drag of his cigarette. “But
Gems left first. Took off cuz Burberry signed her on. Was already dabbling in drugs, then became
a proper addict. Cut off all ties from the family—even Harry. It got to him. But I didn’t notice at
the time. He never said anything, never acted any different. Weren’t till later that I realized… But I
think it was too late.” Zayn’s voice is quiet now, distant and calm like the rolls of the ocean, and
Louis can barely hear over the cracking of his own ribcage.
“What do you mean?” Louis asks, voice whisper soft. He isn’t sure if Zayn hears him.
“Only about a month later did…she leave. The au pair.” Zayn’s voice is funny, his face contorted.
“Harry loved her, though he never said it, I don’t think. But he did, I know he did, and when she
left, things really started to change. Again, it was too hard for me to tell at the time. I didn’t even
realize. But after that, gradually, he became who he is now. Empty. Distracting himself. Existing
on the outside but not on the inside.” Zayn looks down, his cigarette dwindling to ash.
But Louis, having swiftly gone from sad to infuriated within seconds, stares at him, mouth agape.
Because WHAT did Zayn just say?
“What?” he demands, but Zayn doesn’t look up. “Are you fucking serious right now? No, really.
Are you?” Zayn bites his lip. “You fucking see it? You know that something’s drastically wrong
with this boy, and you don’t do a fucking thing about? You just let it happen?! I thought I was the
only one who noticed, Zayn! Fuck’s sake, why isn’t anybody trying to help him?!”
“I can’t do anything, Louis,” Zayn says quietly, but Louis doesn’t hear.
“I’ve been sick over the TRAGEDY of that human being in the mere two months that I’ve known
him, and you’ve known him for years and yet you don’t even fucking care?! Zayn, what the
actual fuck?? That’s not—“
“I tried, Louis,” Zayn says, voice louder, and he looks up at Louis, eyes filled with more emotion
than Louis has ever seen in them. “I tried, all right? But he didn’t…” he trails off, stubbing his
cigarette into a tiny, silver try. He sighs, silkenly, movements smooth as his face begins to relax.
“There are certain things Liam doesn’t know, Louis. Things he doesn’t need to know.” Zayn’s
eyes raise, connecting with Louis’.
“What are you saying?” Louis asks slowly.
Zayn sighs. “I was in love with Harry.”
Louis lets out a stream of breath.
“I was fucking gone for him,” Zayn continues, gaze distant. “Would’ve done anything for him.”
“Did he know?”